"How about we grab a drink and go talk somewhere more quiet?" he asked.I'm a man. I've used this exact line with the women I've dated, or triedto dat..., so it wasn't like I didn't know exactly what he meant. So Ijust needed to politely decline in such a way as to not offend him and beon my way."I was hoping we could do that," I said."What the fuck?" I thought to myself surprised that not only had I agreedbut that I was eager to continue spending time with him. Was I drunk?Was that it?No, I. I could see my fatnipples were trying to poke through the material. I looked like one ofthe countless playboy centerfolds I'd seen over my fifty plus years.I'd never felt so...well, sexy.I went to make another drink. I stumbled once on the way to the bottlessitting on the dresser and giggled, realizing that I was definitelygetting a little tipsy. The martinis were having a strange effect onme. Every single nerve in my body felt alive and sensitive to thetouch. I mixed my drink and took a long. More

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